


I Hate You: A Love Story

by FestiveFerret



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, As Is Tony's, Booty Calls, Drunk Sex, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Hate Sex, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Romance, Steve's Booty is Worth Calling Frankly, Switching, consensual drunk sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 18:33:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14795750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret
Summary: Tony had honestly been stunned that his "Wanna fuck?" line had actually worked, but tasting Steve's desperation on his tongue now, it made a bit more sense. All Tony wanted was a handful of that muscular ass and a look at the abs he'd seen a hint of under Steve's painted-on shirt.





	I Hate You: A Love Story

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my MCU bingo square "(Enemies to) Friends to Lovers" and my Stony bingo square "Drugged/Drunk Sex".
> 
> All the drunk sex is enthusiastically consensual, but both parties are at least somewhat drunk for several encounters so fair warning for any consent issues you may see there.

Tony's back hit the wall and knocked the breath out of his lungs, Steve crowding up close to lock him there, bodies pressed together. Steve was hard already, just from some heavy making out, and Tony ground his thigh up against the bulge in Steve's pants, swallowing his gasp.

Tony had honestly been stunned that his "Wanna fuck?" line had actually worked, but tasting Steve's desperation on his tongue now, it made a bit more sense. Of course Rogers hadn't been laid in a lifetime - and it certainly seemed that way, with his hands pawing up under Tony's shirt like he hadn't touched skin that wasn't his own in so long he had to remind himself what it felt like. Well, who better than Tony to help him out with that particular problem? Not that Tony cared if Steve enjoyed it, beyond having a reputation for being more than worth it to uphold. 

All Tony wanted was a handful of that muscular ass and a look at the abs he'd seen a hint of under Steve's painted-on shirt.

Tony fumbled with his doorknob then rolled into the room when the door sprung open, Steve's shirt caught in his fists. They tripped over each other stumbling for the bed, their kisses little more than a wrestling match with added tongue. 

"Watch the multimeter," Tony muttered when Steve pushed him back on the bed and his foot kicked out and hit the leg of Tony's desk, knocking his tools over.

"What's a multimeter?" Steve stopped and looked over.

"Christ, Rogers, a little focus?"

Steve huffed but went back to devouring Tony's mouth, then dropped his mouth to his jawline and down his neck.

"Shit, yeah." Tony's hands wandered, helping themselves to the vast expanse of Steve's skin that Tony now had access to. Tony was rock hard too now, his hips pushing his erection up against the warm pressure of Steve's thigh of their own accord. It had been an embarrassingly long time since Tony last had someone warming his bed, though it probably wouldn't have been so long if he knew it was as easy as walking up to his friend's boyfriend's, prudish, asshole best friend and offering himself up like a buffet of rage-filled sexual tension. Rogers was insufferable, but apparently he was up for a good time, and right now, that was all Tony needed.

He spared a thought for poor Rhodey who he had abandoned at the bar with Nat and her boyfriend. Rhodey third wheeled like a champ though, and Nat would buy his drinks out of sympathy. Maybe she'd get him sloshed enough that he wouldn't remember that Tony had let his dick lead him back to his room and Steve's shapely - albeit deeply irritating - ass instead of staying with him in single-person solidarity.

"Well?" Steve said, and Tony blinked at him. He had the distinct look of someone who had asked a question twice already.

"Sorry, your abs are really fucking distracting. Also, I try to tune you out as much as possible."

Steve's brow creased in that holier-than-thou disappointed pout he liked to send Tony's way. "If you don't want to do this -"

"Oh, fuck no, I want to do this. I just don't want you talking to be part of it."

Steve huffed, but he wasn't shoving himself up and storming out, so Tony wasn't too worried. "As long as you keep quiet too," he finally muttered and Tony laughed. 

He batted his eyelashes. "Give my mouth something else to do, hot stuff."

"I was asking if you have condoms."

"Oh, yeah." Tony pushed Steve back a bit and twisted to the side to root through his bedside drawer until he came up with condoms and lube. Steve used the opportunity to kick his shoes and jeans off and crawl up on the bed next to Tony. Tony pulled his shirt off then worked his button open. "You should fuck me."

"Alright." Steve pulled his shirt off.

"That was easy."

"About as easy as you?" Steve asked, and there was heat under the joking words.

"Don't be a dick." Naked now, Tony swung up to straddle Steve's thighs, shifting one hand behind himself, slicked with lube, to seek out his hole. Steve's hands landed on his hips, squeezing once then settling. Steve could bitch about Tony's spray-and-pray attempt at flirting and his tendency to sit in random hot people's laps when he'd had a few but, "You're the one who came home with me."

Steve shrugged and rocked up against Tony's body needily. His fingers drifted around to brush the curves of Tony's ass, finding where he was opening himself up. 

"Fuck off, give me a minute."

"I can do this." Steve eased his finger next to Tony's, not pushing in, but adding pressure.

Tony moaned and rocked forward, his cock dripping over Steve's should-be-illegal stomach. "Knowing you, you'll spend a year and a half fingering me and I'll fall asleep before the good stuff."

Steve huffed again, and his frown deepened, but he didn't say anything, and Tony smirked with satisfaction. They'd only met a few times, but that had been all it took for Tony to size Steve up. He was an idealistic, judgemental, cliquey, scholarship art-loser who wouldn't spit on brash, outgoing, realist, loaded as fuck, endless-grad-student Tony if he were on fire. Though he would, apparently, fuck him, once he'd gotten a few gin and tonics down his throat. 

"I'm surprised you went for this," Tony said, smacking Steve's hand away then pushing his fingers deep inside and scissoring them, rolling his hips to drive them deeper. He groaned, and Steve's cock twitched against his thigh.

"Keep pushing it Stark, and I can go."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He rocked up and grabbed Steve's cock, sliding a condom on deftly before starting to lower himself down. Steve grabbed his hips again, eyes going steadily wider as Tony slid over him. Steve's cock was gloriously thick, sending shivers up Tony's spine as it stretched him wide. His prep had been rudimentary and sloppy, but the alcohol helped him relax, and soon he was settled on Steve's lap. 

Now that they had a common goal, they fit together like a well-oiled machine. Steve used his not-inconsiderable strength to help lift Tony up and bring him down, bouncing him on his cock while Tony moaned and tensed. He braced both hands on Steve's chest and held on, rocking his hips forward and back as Steve brought him up and down. Every slick slide was just this side of too hard and too big, and Tony rolled his eyes back in his head and shuddered with pleasure, tamping down a need to pray he'd never experienced before. 

Steve broke into a stream of particularly blasphemous cursing and for some reason that only turned Tony on more. He knew he'd have to be the one to touch his own cock - Steve was too focused on his own pleasure to care - but he held off, enjoying the feeling of Steve filling him up for now. 

Then the world twisted and swirled and suddenly he was flat on his back on the bed, Steve looming over him, still buried deep in his ass. "Yikes."

Steve didn't answer, simply falling back into his rhythm.

"Harder," Tony demanded hands landing on Steve's forearms.  _ Fuck  _ he was ripped, it was criminal. "Fuck me harder."

Steve growled a little, which was holy shit hotter, but picked up the pace, hooking one of Tony's legs over his arm and slamming into him deep and rough.

"Oh,  _ fuck."  _ Tony worked a hand in the space between them and started to stroke himself in time with Steve's thrusts. He rolled his palm over the head of his cock. He was hot, sweating and skin prickling, and lost to every new wave of pleasure Steve shot up his spine. Obcense noises were spilling from both their mouths but Tony had no attention left to waste on worrying about who might hear. All his housemates were out, as far as he knew, and if they weren't? Well, that was what headphones were for.

Steve leaned forward, one hand braced against the wall, and suddenly he was hitting Tony just right, an angle that made Tony's balls tighten against the base of his cock, precome leaking over his fist. Seemingly without effort, Steve had found the perfect spot, and Tony was instantly thirty seconds from coming. "Oh shit, I'm going to come, don't you dare fucking stop."

"Wasn't planning on it," Steve growled back, putting all those apparently-not-just-for-show muscles to excellent use.

The next few thrusts were a haze of that right-on-the-edge intensity, each strike of Steve's cock against Tony's prostate teasing him closer to spilling over. Steve cursed again, and Tony could feel the energy building in him. He'd be damned if he let Steve come first, though. Tony closed his eyes and twisted his wrist, jacking himself off furiously now, bracing his body so he felt the full force of every thrust. 

It built and built until, finally, with an embarrassingly high-pitched moan, everything broke and Tony came. All he was aware of in that moment were the crashing waves of pleasure stealing his breath and the fact that Steve's thrusts had gone wild and erratic until, he too, was moaning out his release. For a solid minute they hovered there, shivering through the aftershocks and finding their breath and heart beats again.

Tony groaned when Steve pulled free, his body simultaneously aching and disappointed at the loss. Steve rolled off the bed the second he had the condom off and ran a hand through his sweaty hair, shoving it back from his face. He started collecting his clothes while Tony stretched out long on the bed with a satisfied sigh. 

"Huh," Steve said, looking around Tony's room while he did up his pants. 

"What?"

"I guess I just expected something more opulent from a Stark than a single room in a dingy frat house."

"Hey, watch who you're calling dingy, asshole. I live here cause my friends live here and I happen to like it. Not everything is gold-plated baseboards, pet lions, and guardhouses. Sorry if you came looking for a show. Or a hand-out."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Fuck you. I got what I came for. I'm just surprised Tony Stark can't afford a cleaning service." Steve kicked out to tap his foot against a pile of dirty plates stacked by wall then pulled open the door with one hand, wrestling his shirt on with the other. 

"Have a nice life!" Tony called.

"Night." The door shut, and Steve was gone.

Tony lay back and floated in the pleasant glow of an orgasm well-done. And there was certainly no need to worry about Rogers being a problem. He'd made it clear he wasn't interested in Tony or Tony's money. There was a slim chance it was going to be awkward, with the overlap in their friend groups, but if Steve tried to be weird about it, Tony could remind him that he was intimately aware of what Steve's o-face looked like, and Steve would probably forcefully ignore him for the rest of his existence.

He didn't mean to fall asleep, but somewhere between checking his email and waiting for SimCity to load, Tony conked off, phone stuck to his cheek, dead to the world.

**

To his surprise, it was only a week before Tony saw Steve Rogers again.

Tony's head spun pleasantly, each slightly wobbly step releasing another wave of giddy pleasure as the alcohol surged through him. The club was dark and the bass pounded heavily through his chest. People pressed on all sides, but Tony slipped through them easily, comfortable maneuvering through large crowds. 

Tony sidled up next to a familiar shape at the bar. "Alright, maybe you were right," he said.

Rhodey grinned at him over his glass. "You having a good time? Glad I dragged you out here after all?"

"Maybe," Tony admitted tartly, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face.

Rhodey bumped their shoulders together then signaled to the bartender for another one. A second later, a glass appeared by Tony's hand, and he picked it up and turned to face the crowd. The dance floor was full of writhing, sweaty bodies, and the heat and pressure and rhythm of it was making Tony's nerves thrum. 

Another familiar shape caught Tony's eye among the flashing lights and he snorted with amusement as he sipped his drink. Fuck, he couldn't even taste it anymore.

"What?"

"Steve Rogers is here." He watched as Nat pulled him out towards the dance floor. Tony could tell even from this distance that he was blushing. He leaned back away from her hold like he was hoping to be teleported into another state at any moment, but he didn't fight her as she tugged him to the centre of the mass of bodies.

"Who's Steve Rogers?" Rhodey asked.

"He's best friends with Nat's boyfriend, Bucky. Total asshole but hot as fuck. You met him at the bar last week. The tall blonde with more values than sense."

Rhodey shifted in his seat to look at Tony. "You slept with him, didn't you? That's where you disappeared to."

Tony grinned. "That blush goes allll the way down."

"I did not need to know that."

Tony watched as Steve and Nat threaded between the bodies on the dance floor. Nat hooked a finger in his collar and pulled him down so she could whisper in his ear. He shook his head, and Tony couldn't tell from this distance, but he thought Steve might be smiling. They started to move. Rogers wasn't bad, he wasn't  _ good,  _ but his athleticism worked in his favour, and at the very least, he had some kind of body control. 

After a few minutes, Tony's drink was down to a squashed lime slice and a tiny sliver of ice and he was still watching Steve and Nat dance. Bucky joined them a moment later, pulling Nat back against his chest to grind with her, and Tony found his feet hitting the floor. He looked down at his feet curiously, unable to remember asking them to tip him forward off the stool. He set his glass down and rocked his head forward and back until Rhodey came into focus. 

Rhodey looked at him with resigned disappointment. "Don't drive."

Tony tugged his keys out of his pocket and worked the car fob off the ring. He handed it to Rhodey who tucked it in his own pocket. He winked at Rhodey who laughed and shook his head, but gave Tony a little shove towards the dance floor.

Tony wove his way through the crowd, eyes on a blonde head that stuck out higher than the others. A young woman in a crop top had sidled up against the now free Steve and was grinding with him. Steve looked like he didn't know where to put his hands.

Tony fell into the press of dancing students, working his way over to where Steve moved against the woman. "Mind if I cut in?" He was proud that he didn't slur. The woman barely noticed him, but Steve subtly shifted to allow Tony to slot in between them. Unbothered, she shimmed off to curl up against another body.

Tony noticed with distinct satisfaction that Steve didn't seem to struggle with where his hands should land on Tony. Tony pressed against his chest and Steve's fingers wrapped around his hips, tugging him even closer. They moved together to the beat. The awkwardness of Steve's dancing seemed to have disappeared now that Tony was wrapped around him instead of watching from across the room. Tony stroked his fingers up through the back of Steve's hair, remembering how the strands had felt locked between his fingers. 

Steve bent closer, and Tony could smell alcohol on his breath. That made it easier to shift up on his toes and press their lips together. "How about it?" he whispered against Steve's mouth. It was even easier to proposition him this time. One, because he knew how that cock felt deep inside him, and two, because it was too loud in here to have a conversation that would remind both of them why they hated each other.

Steve answered by hauling Tony up into his arms and drawing him into a heated, messy kiss. Tony licked the gin out of Steve's mouth and hummed, only a few inches short of actually crawling up Steve's body. His dick was instantly interested, booze be damned, and Tony braced his toes on the floor and pushed, driving Steve backwards towards the doors.  

They stumbled along, glued together, away from the crowd. Tony knew the club well, and he directed Steve along the edge of the dance floor to an unmarked door along the side way. Steve paused. 

"Is it going to set off an alarm?"

Tony rolled his eyes and spun them, tugging Steve after him as he pressed the door open with his butt. "Trust me." He walked backwards through the door and pulled Steve after him, pressing him against the wall beside it as soon as they were out. 

"Why should I trust you? I barely know you," Steve grumbled, but he let himself be manhandled.

Tony nipped his way along Steve's jawline. "Could we do this without talking please?" he muttered.

"Are we really going to do 'this' in a club stairwell?"

Tony ground forward, letting their erections rub together. "You tell me, champ. You're not up for it, I can find someone else."

Steve appeared to grapple with it for a moment. "Okay, fine, but on the hinge-side of the door so if anyone opens it, they won't see us right away."

"Fair enough." Tony backed off, giving space for Steve to shift to the other side of the door, but instead of sliding to the side, Steve grabbed Tony and rolled them until Tony was the one with his back against the door, and Steve loomed over him. 

Eager to keep the ball in his own court, Tony immediately tugged Steve's fly open and shoved his hand inside. 

"Jesus," Steve whispered. His forehead came down to rest on Tony's shoulder, hands gripping and releasing Tony's hips. 

"You seriously going to stand there and let me do all the work?" Tony asked.

Steve pulled back to glare at him, then started wrestling with Tony's pants. It took a minute of huffing and tussling before they were comfortably settled, Tony's cock wrapped in Steve's fist, and Steve's cock in Tony's. Steve pressed his mouth against Tony's temple, not kissing, but breathing him in as their hands began to move in tandem.

It was rough and hurried and Tony's heart jumped into overdrive every time he heard a thump or a click near the door. No one interrupted them, though, and it wasn't long at all before Tony felt tingly heat prickling to life under his skin. "Fuck, I'm gonna come," he said, and Steve tensed against him, a breath gasped out against Tony's forehead. To his credit, Steve's rhythm didn't change. He stroked Tony firm and quick, and only a few sucked-in breaths later, Tony spilled over his hand.

"Shit," Steve breathed, rutting into the fist that Tony had relaxed while he came. For a flickering moment, Tony considered shoving Steve away and leaving him there unsatisfied, but the urge passed as soon as it came. Steve was a self-righteous prick, but not so much that Tony could inflict that on him. Besides experience was starting to prove that he was a  _ really  _ good lay, and Tony was loathe to give that up, no matter how much they disliked each other.

Tony slumped back against the wall, the concrete catching his shirt, and focused on putting all of his strength and control into jacking Steve off. The alcohol was making him feel dizzy again, so he let his eyes close, the fist that wasn't stroking Steve's impressively hard cock, wound into his shirt instead, holding himself steady.

"Come on, Steve," he whined, and for some reason, that was what pushed him over the edge. Steve shuddered, his hip twisting forward to dig painfully into Tony's, then he spilled, splattering over Tony's hand and onto his shirt.

Steve shifted away with a groan, and Tony rubbed rather ineffectually at his filthy clothes, wiping his hand on his boxers before putting himself back together and zipping up. 

"Hey, give me your number," Tony slurred. The combination of alcohol and orgasm had him completely wasted. He wondered if Rhodey had left yet or if he was still around to pour him into a cab. 

"Why?" It took Steve three tries but he managed to get the zipper on his pants done.

Tony laughed. "So the next time I'm drunk, I know how to find you. Duh." Tony stretched, watching as Steve's eyes followed the lines of his body down to where his hips peeked out of the top of his jeans. "Don't tell me this isn't the best you've gotten all year, Rogers."

Steve's eyes snapped back up. "Well, it's certainly the most convenient." He held out a hand with a shrug, and Tony deposited his phone in it. When he got it back, Steve hadn't entered his number in as a contact, instead he'd sent himself a text that just said "Tony" Tony saved the number, concentrating very hard on hitting all of the right buttons, and when he looked back up, Steve was gone.

Since he had his phone out anyway, Tony called his own cab, stumbling down the back steps and out into the alley to meet it on the street. The fresh, cool air felt amazing swirling around his face, and he grinned up at the night sky. Tonight had been a good night.

**

Almost a month went by without Tony using the number, and he was properly startled when, in the end, it was Steve that texted him. 

_ Caan I  come ovver ?  _

At one thirty in the morning on a Friday, it wasn't hard to guess what Steve was after. Tony'd already had a few himself, but then, instead of bothering to go out, he'd spent most of his evening playing Duck Hunt, getting increasingly belligerent with the damn dog the drunker he got. A visit from one Steve Rogers was exactly what Tony needed, to burn off steam of more than one kind. Not only was the sex amazing, but hating Steve's pompous ass while he plowed into it would be all kinds of wonderful catharsis.

_ How drunk are you?  _ Tony shot back, playing it as coy as he was capable of. There would be something awfully satisfying about getting Steve to beg for it.

_ Not tooo drink to fihnd domeone else. _

Tony snorted, choking on the last swing of his beer. That was an amazing fucking answer. Worth not getting a beg.  _ Come over,  _ he texted back, chucking his empty in the recycling and grabbing a bottle of tequila. He went up to his room, did a quick scan for anything so horrifically embarrassing that he couldn't even let his fuckenemy see it, then sprawled on the bed with a tablet. He flicked through some less than stellar porn thumbnails, getting the engine a bit revved to overcome the weighty effect of the booze.

When the door downstairs creaked open, Tony poured two shots. Steve appeared in his doorway. His cheeks were pink, and his eyes were unfocused. "How'd you get here?" Tony asked.

"I walked." He barely slurred. "I have an excellent sense of direction."

"I bet." Tony eyed him for a moment then knocked back both shots himself. "You are too fucking drunk already." Tony waited while Steve watched him. When Steve didn't move from the doorway, Tony raised an eyebrow in his direction and spread his arms wide. "Well? Are you going to shut the door and come in, or what?"

"Just appreciating the view," Steve said. He kicked the door shut then stumbled across the room to crawl over Tony, caging him to the bed. "Before you open your mouth and ruin it again."

"Fuck you."

"That's what I'm here for," Steve shot back.

For the next hour, the only sounds in the room were their gasps and moans. After, Tony found himself sinking off to sleep almost immediately, and he barely registered the bed dipping, the sound of clothing being slipped on, and the door opening and closing. 

"Night," he called out, more of an inarticulate grunt than a word, then he was out.

**

The next few months went on in much the same way. Steve was constantly thrown in Tony's path through their mutual friends, but in groups they hardly even looked the other's way. They managed not to be out and out rude to each other - their intense sexual encounters managing to burn off most of that energy - but they were little more than ships passing in the night amongst their friends.

But when they were alone… 

It was not hard for Tony to admit that sex with Steve was the best sex he'd ever had. There was a primal energy that crackled between them every time they fell in bed together. They each focused on nothing but getting themselves off and somehow that worked for both of them. It had become a perfectly choreographed dance. 

Every time Tony got drunk, his fingers found Steve's number, and it was pretty clear that Steve was doing the same. All the truly excellent sex was keeping Tony in a phenomenal mood, and he got more done on his thesis in the two months since he met Steve than he had in the five months previous. He felt high all the time. 

"Stop grinning, it's freaky," Rhodey said, opening the fridge and pulling out a container of blueberries. 

Tony grabbed a handful off the top and shoved them in his mouth. "Can't stop, won't stop, sugarplum. Finally making progress on my new bot!"

"Then why are you wearing your one pair of good jeans?"

"Oh, I'm going to a movie with Nat."

"Nat, huh? I assumed you had a hot date."

"Wow, you don't think Nat is hot? I'm telling her you said that. She'll skin you alive."

Rhodey pointed a piece of bread at Tony. "Now that's hot."

"I'm telling her you said that too."

"Don't you dare."

Tony hopped up on the counter next to the cutting board, and Rhodey put together two sandwiches, slapping Tony's hand away every time he tried to snag one of the slices of cucumber or cheese as he cut them.

They ate together, arguing lightly about which Power Ranger they'd be until Tony's phone buzzed with a text, and he grabbed his keys and made for the door. He picked Natasha up at her dorm, the bright red door of the building making his dick sit up and take notice; the last several times he'd seen it had been when he was staggering up to knock on Steve's door and proposition him. The only time Steve had said no had been the night before his mid-semester art project was due. Tony had offered to model instead, but after much laughter, Steve had assured him that he wasn't planning on doing an anatomy study.

But Nat appeared, and Tony pushed memories of Steve's sinfully delicious body from his mind. The movie was a spy-thriller and they both devoured popcorn, flinching and laughing and gasping at all the right places. When they got back to the dorms, Tony walked Nat up to Bucky's room, one floor up from hers, a tiny niggling thought jumping up and down on the back of his brain that Bucky's neighbour might just be home as well. 

"Hey babe," Bucky said as soon as the door opened. 

Tony's eyes flicked down the hall to the next door over. Was Steve even home? Should Tony go find out? He was surprisingly sober, but also horny, and really only one was required. So far, most of their daliences had been with the aid of alcohol, but even without a buzz, Tony was pretty sure he could handle Steve's tight-lipped judgement without slapping him, knowing what kind of orgasm he'd be in store for if he held out. 

"You'll come, right?" Bucky said, and Tony blinked away from the hall and over at the couple. 

"What?"

"Midnight mini-golf. Dude gave me a coupon. We're going to go. Come." Nat poked him in the ribs. 

Tony poked back. "But I'm full of popcorn."

"It'll be fun," Bucky said. "Coupon's for up to four, though. Should we invite Stevie?"

"I'll invite him!" Tony turned away and scuttled down the hall.

Steve's door was cracked, so Tony just shoved it open without knocking. "You have to come with us."

"What?" Steve looked up from his tiny desk. He had paper sprawled out in front of him and all across his bed. He was holding a pen and had a deep divot in his brow that didn't seem likely to go away any time soon. 

"Nat and Bucky are going midnight mini golfing and they're trying to shanghai me into coming with them."

Steve's frown deepened. "So?"

"So… you have to come with us."

"Why?"

"I don't want to third wheel."

Steve sighed and tipped backwards in his chair, rolling his pen between his fingers. "Since when does what you want have anything to do with me?"

Tony smirked. "It occasionally has had something to do with you."

"Yeah, but _ that's _ one thing. Now you want me to go out with you?"

"Uh ah." Tony held up a finger. "I want you to go out with  _ us  _ to shield me from their ridiculous flirting."

Steve snorted. "I can't believe you're willing to put up with me, just to avoid them. They're not that bad." But he shook his head. "I can't. I have to study for this stupid economics elective I chose to take."

The door down the hall opened and closed and Tony slipped inside Steve's room. Nat and Bucky appeared in the doorway, hands wound together. "Ready?" Bucky asked.

"Sorry, can't go after all. Steve needs me to help him study." Tony glanced his way, and Steve shot him a death glare. 

Bucky and Nat shared a glance. "Right… cause you two are such good friends."

"He's paying me," Tony added. He could feel waves of hatred wafting off of Steve and rocking against his back, but he didn't care. Steve was going to hate him anyway. This way he could get laid and get home in time to watch America's Next Top Model with Bruce, without having to be the wobbly front wheel on Nat and Bucky's PDA-filled Reliant Robin. 

"Whatever. We'll ask Sam and Carol instead." Bucky put his arm around Nat's shoulders and led her off down the hall. "Use protection!" he called back, and Steve winced.

"Asshole." Steve's sharp curse brought Tony's attention back around to him but his gaze wasn't angry, it was heated. 

Tony smirked and advanced on him, settling himself in Steve's lap, straddled over his thighs. The chair creaked ominously. "Yeah, I'm a dick," Tony agreed. "So's economics. Maybe you should take some of that frustration out on me, eh?"

Steve rumbled and pouted. "God Tony," he huffed. "You're so -" For a second, Tony thought Steve was actually going to knock him off his lap. He was radiating irritation so strongly that Tony was entirely prepared to find his butt suddenly on the floor. But then Steve let out a long breath and guided instead of shoved, hard enough to get Tony off him, but not to send him sprawling.

Tony tried to hide the disappointment at being rebuffed. He turned away, ready to walk out with as much of his dignity as he could. 

But then, "Go shut the door," Steve said. "We're not having sex in this chair, it'll break." Tony clicked the door shut. "And, after, you have to quiz me on these flashcards as punishment for being a dick and dodging our friends."

Tony grinned.

**

Tony rocked back and forth in his chair to the beat of the music, mouthing along with the lyrics and bobbing his head. He set aside the soldering iron and dropped a resistor into place. 

"What would your mama say about the state of this room, boy?" a laughing voice boomed from behind him.

Tony startled up and spun. Obie leaned against the doorjamb, hands in his pockets, smiling at Tony. Acid surged up Tony's throat. His eyes darted around the room, calculating how much shit was piled up, how bad it looked. Had there been empty beer bottles still on the table downstairs? How much had Obie seen?

"Obie, hey. I wasn't expecting you." Tony pushed up to his feet, tugging off his safety glasses and setting them on the table. 

Obie threw his arms wide. "That all the greeting I get? Come here, my boy." He folded Tony in his hold and patted his back twice before pulling away. Obie held Tony out at arm's length and raked his eyes over him. "Hmm."

Tony rolled his eyes. "I'm taking care of myself, Obie, I promise. No need to get all mother-henny on me. I own kale and everything."

"Well, someone has to. Still can't believe you chose to live here when you could buy a place off-campus. Live like a grownup. You're twenty-two now, son. Time to be an adult."

"I like living here. My friends are here." It was the same argument they'd had a hundred times. Though it was unusual for Obie to come all the way across the country to have it in person. "Are you in town for business?" Tony asked carefully.

Obie perched on the edge of Tony's bed and leaned with his elbows on his knees. He twined his fingers together. "You could say that…"

"Is something wrong with SI?"

Obie contemplated him for a tense moment. "Your company needs you, Tony. The board is in disarray, no one knows where to look for leadership and innovation. I'm doing my best to hold things together, but, you know, with you at the helm… we could do great things. As it is now, things are stagnant."

Tony resisted the urge to shift in his seat. Obie and Howard had shoved it into him long ago.  _ Every conversation is a negotiation, son. Don't give away your advantage by writhing around like ten-year-old that needs to use the potty. Man up. Hold your ground.  _ Tony tried to hold his ground. "We agreed that I could finish school. You said you could handle it until then."

Obie tutted. "That was three degrees ago, Tony."

"Well, yeah, but I'm not even as old as most people are when they finish their first. It's not my fault I'm quick. I just thought I could cram more into the time. You know… efficient."

"Not your fault? Tony, taking over SI isn't a punishment. It's your  _ destiny.  _ This is what your father always intended for you, what we always intended for you. You're brilliant and you can do great things, create great things. Between you and me, we can make SI an empire to be feared again. Magnificent."

Tony picked his safety glasses back up and twirled them between his fingers. "Won't I be more useful the more I've learned?" he asked. "At least let me finish electrical engineering. It's a really good one."

Obie sighed and stood. His broad shoulders blocked the light from the single stand lamp in the corner, and he loomed over Tony, his dark shadow blocking out the rest of the room. "I know you're afraid," Obie said. His hand landed heavily on Tony's shoulder. "But you can only put this off for so long. It's time to step up."

Tony's heart pounded in his chest. He leaned back in his chair, wishing he didn't have to tip his chin so high to keep his eyes on Obie's face. He resisted the need to check Obie's hands, see if they were curling into fists, see if the knuckles were white. He knew what that heavy hand meant, he knew what white knuckles meant.

And he'd spent a lifetime giving in to them.

"I'm staying." Tony hoped his voice didn't shake. "I appreciate what you're doing for SI, but like you said, it's time for me to be a grownup and that means making my own choices. So, I'm staying. When I'm done this PhD, I'll come back to Malibu. I'll run the company, whatever you want me to, but I need one more year."

Obie sighed again, shook his head, his mouth twisted into a pained frown. "You know, I used to tell Howard not to be so hard on you. He was like my brother, you know? You've always been like a son to me, Tony. And I don't want to have to say these things, do these things. I don't want to make you unhappy. But I can see why Howard had to take such a firm hand with you. You don't know what's best, Tony. You're still young, you don't have the benefit of experience. Trust me. I only want what's best for you. Come home."

Tony braced his hands on the arms of the chair and pushed himself to his feet. Obie stepped back, but not far enough. It was all too familiar, too gut-twisting. Obie had never laid a hand on him, but he'd been there often enough, been the one patting Howard on the back and saying, "Come on, friend, lay off, he's just a kid."

But now Obie was the one looking at him like he was a disappointment, like he was less than what a Stark should be, and Tony knew where that went. He slipped his hand into his back pocket and found his phone. He pressed the contacts button by memory then counted off the letters as he cycled through them. A….B...C; the phone vibrated a little every time he scrolled to a new letter.

"What… what would it be like if I did come home?" Tony asked carefully, stalling. Obie was between him and the door. K...L...M…

Obie backed off a hair's breadth. "Well, you'd take up your position as head of the board. I know you don't know how to manage something so huge, Tony, so of course I would help you. It's more of a position in name only. We'd get you set up in R&D, you could build to your heart's content. Every now and then there'd be board meetings, but all you'd have to do is follow my lead. I'd let you know what to say, what to sign." 

It would certainly be easier to just give in. Tony tried to imagine that life. There were things he wanted to do, ideas he had that were hard to enact while at school. But with all the power of his father's company behind him…? 

He finally counted to R. He swiped Rhodey's name, starting a call. Rhodey would come upstairs to mock Tony for the butt dial, and it would relieve some of this tension, give Tony some space to think. He tucked his phone back in his pocket, hiding the movement with a shrug. "So I could build whatever I wanted?"

Obie's face twisted into one of condescending sympathy. "Well… it's a business Tony, you have to build what makes the business money. It's not just an endless playground for you. But you have your father's instincts. I know you can revolutionize the weapons industry. And I'll be right there at your side." He grinned.

Tony shuffled, trying to put more space between them but Obie caught his shoulder again, stilling him. His fingers dug in, five pinpricks of pain that would surely bruise. "I don't want to build weapons."

Obie huffed a frustrated sound and leaned in again, his face falling back into shadow. "You're a Stark, Tony, you don't have a choice. I've been trying to give you your space, but the board is getting antsy without your input. I have a vision, and your absence is holding it back. You're going to pack your stuff, and you're going to come back to Malibu with me. If you  _ must  _ you can finish your thesis from there, on your own time, but this is enough wallowing in filth with a bunch of kids, wasting your time and money. Your father asked me to look out for you if anything happened to him. And that's what I'm doing. You're coming home." Obie's fingers tightened, and Tony couldn't stop the gasp that leaked out. Where was Rhodey?

"I'm home  _ here."  _ Frustration welled up inside Tony's chest. He was sick of being pushed around. He'd come out to the east coast specifically to avoid this. He thought he was free of it, with his father's death. Losing his mother was too high a price to pay for freedom, but since it had been given to him, he'd taken it. But now, now Obie was stepping right up? Controlling his life? If he gave in this time, he'd never be free of Obie's hold. He could see that path lit up in front of him like a runway at night. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You selfish, ungrateful  _ brat."  _ Obie spat out, grabbing at Tony's upper arm instead and hauling him up until he felt unsteady, balancing on his toes.

"You're hurting me." Tony struggled in his grip.

"Someone has to put you in your place."

Tony wasn't expecting the slap. Pain whipped across his face, and he jerked in Obie's hold, his arm coming up automatically to protect himself. His ear rung, and his cheek burned where Obie's hand had connected. He was eleven all over again, caught playing in his father's workshop. His heart stuttered and his eyes stung. He bit his lip hard, and struggled to turn his pain into anger. 

But just as he was rearing up to throw himself at Obie, entirely unwilling to stand here in his own room that he paid for and take this all over again, Obie's hand ripped off Tony's arm and disappeared. A solid back connected with Tony's chest, and he grunted, thrown back. Rhodey. But when he finally got a look at the new person in the room, his mouth fell open. "Steve?"

Steve shoved at Obie, standing firm between him and Tony. Obie had one hand pressed to his cheek, and Tony realized, on delay, that Steve had hit him back. Tony's hand snapped to Steve's back, ready to hold on for dear life if he went for Obie again. But Steve didn't seem inclined to move, standing so close to Tony that they bumped and bounced off each other as they breathed and shifted. One of Steve's hands stayed curled by his hip, a threat and a promise, the other snaked back to grab Tony's elbow and hold it fast.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Steve growled out. "Get out of here."

Obie drew himself back up to his full height. "What in - who is this?" He directed his question at Tony, but he didn't give him time to respond. "I don't know what you think you're doing, Tony, but this… this is not going to play out well for you. We'll see what the board thinks of this. Shirking your responsibilities, drinking, sleeping around -" Obie's lip curled as he looked back at Steve "-  _ experimenting.  _ You're better than this."

Tony managed to wiggle out from behind Steve so he was standing beside him instead. Steve's eyes were flashing with a dark storm Tony had never seen before. He swallowed hard. 

"I think you should go," Steve said.

"Tony I -" Obie started, but Tony cut him off.

"He said go." Tony wobbled; Steve gripped his elbow harder, steadying him. "Just go."

Obie rolled more - no doubt hurtful - words around in his mouth but didn't spit them this time. He turned on his heel and marched out. Tony flinched as the front door slammed shut.

Steve turned on him immediately. "Are you okay?" He caught Tony's chin and tilted his face to the side to peer at his cheek. Tony batted him away.

"I'm fine." 

Steve frowned at him. "You should ice that," he said, softer. 

They hovered there awkwardly for a long, tense minute. Tony could tell Steve wanted to ask what that was all about, but every time he opened his mouth to explain, nothing would come out. In the end, Tony turned and walked out of his room, Steve following behind. He headed for the kitchen, and pulled a bag of frozen peas out of the freezer. Leaning back against the counter, he smushed the bag against his face and sighed with relief when the cool bag touched his tingling skin. 

"So you met my uncle," Tony said lightly, wondering if they could turn this into a joke.

Apparently, they could not. Steve's frown only deepened. "That was your uncle?"

"Well… not by blood. He was my dad's best friend, before he died. He's always been like an uncle, looked out for me."

"Looked  _ out for you?  _ Tony, he hit you that's not -"

"Runs in the family," Tony bit out. "Look, can we - can we not do this right now? I think I'm at my quota for being yelled at by people who are disappointed in me. If you're looking to fuck, I'm sorry, I don't think I'm quite up for performing right now, though, hey, who knows, if you get started maybe he'll get interested." Tony gestured crudely towards his crotch. 

"I'm not - what do you mean?"

"I assume you came here for sex?"

"You called me," Steve said, clearly bewildered.

"What?"

"You called me. And I could hear someone yelling at you, I came as fast as I could."

Tony dug his phone out of his pocket and stared at it. He had a seven minute call to "Rogers." "Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I tried to call Rhodey. I forgot you were in 'R' as well." Tony waved his phone as if it was some sort of explanation.

"Oh." Steve actually looked kind of disappointed. "Right. Sorry."

"You're sorry that I called you by mistake?"

"No! That I - nevermind. How's your cheek?" Steve stepped closer, and Tony peeled the peas away to show him. Steve's frown came back, but he said, "Looks better. Less red."

"Good."

Steve worked his lower lip. "So… do you want me to go get Rhodey then? If he's the one, you, uh, wanted?"

Tony shrugged. "I just thought he'd be a good distraction. Obie knows him. He wouldn't go off if Rhodey was there." 

"Oh. Right. Well… I should go, I guess." Steve took a half step back then narrowed his eyes at Tony. "He's not going to come back, is he?"

Tony shook his head. "Nah… he said his piece. I'll pay for it in some other way."

"Tony…"

"I don't want to talk about it. Please."

"Alright." Steve shifted back into Tony's space. His fingers ghosted over Tony's elbow, down his forearm. "If you need anything though, you know you can ask me right?"

And when had that happened? Because Tony believed him, really believed him. And if Rhodey hadn't been nearby, if it hadn't been Tony's default to call him, Steve was really the only other person he would have been able to call in a moment like that. And now he'd proven himself worthy of that call. "Thanks."

Steve stepped towards the front door again, then stopped. "Um. I - actually. My class is right across the street but it doesn't start for an hour and the class before will still be in the room. Do you mind if I wait here? It's fine if that's weird, I can go sit in the hall." He hovered, radiating discomfort.

Tony snorted and rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. I've had your dick in my mouth, I think I can stand to play a few rounds of Smash with you while you wait for your class to start, come on Steve. You're the one making it weird."

Steve threw his arms up in the air in exasperation and flopped down on Tony's couch. Tony tossed the peas back in the freezer then curled up at the other end of the couch, toes tucked in the gap between cushions. He grabbed the remote and two controllers and started setting up the game. 

"So you were in the area, then?" he asked.

"Hmm?"

"You were nearby, waiting for your class to start, and decided to pop across the street and do some white knighting?"

"Oh… no, I was at the library when you called."

"The lib- how in the fuck did you get here so fast?"

"I ran."

"You - oh." Tony caught Steve's eye, and there was something there, something he hadn't seen before.  _ Affection.  _ He was used to seeing it in Rhodey's eyes, or even in Nat's eyes. But in Steve's? That was new. But even as he stared, he realized it wasn't all that crazy. The minutes on either side of their daliences had stretched longer and longer. Tony knew about most of Steve's classes, about his mother, his friends. And Steve knew about Tony's dissertations, his robot plans, his air hockey ladder. His uncle. Their lives had leached into each other's until, somehow, they'd become some sort of weird friends with really nice benefits. It was hard, even, to remember why he'd hated Steve so much. Now, when he looked at him, he had some sort of pavlovian response, his body going,  _ Oh yes! We like this one!  _ as soon as he met those bright blue eyes, that crooked smile. "Huh," he said, out loud, and Steve cocked an eyebrow.

Tony answered by tossing a controller his way and proceeding to kick his ass six ways from Sunday with all available characters on all maps. 

**

Tony worked his way down Steve's buttons, revealing inch after inch of perfect skin. "I need lube, I want to fuck you," he growled. 

Steve leaned over to reach for the drawer at the same moment that Tony half sat up, shoving Steve off his lap so he could reach for the same drawer. Their heads collided in the middle. 

"Fuck!" Steve rocked back, hand pressed to his forehead, wincing.

Tony slapped both hands over his face, groaning with pain, but it broke into a laugh. 

"Shut up," Steve said, laughing now too.

"How are you so fucking built and so clumsy at the same time?" Tony rubbed his forehead. 

Steve rolled off him and sprawled on the bed, half naked, a large red mark blooming on his head. "Hey, you asked me for lube! I was just getting it for you."

"I meant 'back off, I'm going to get the lube.'"

"Well, I was just trying to be a gentleman."

That set Tony off snorting with laughter again. "You're ridiculous." They eventually fell silent, finding their breathing again. Steve's leg was hooked over Tony's, and Tony reached out and brushed his thumb up the inside of Steve's thigh.

"So…" Steve said, "you said something about fucking me?"

"Okay, but I'm going to reach for the lube so don't you dare move. I don't think I can take another concussion, and I don't want you bridal carrying me to the ER in my underwear."

"Aye aye." Steve stayed perfectly still.

Tony sat up and eyed him suspiciously, then turned to root through the drawer until he found a condom and the clear bottle. The new one was half-empty already; were he and Steve really seeing each other that often? Huh. "You're going to lube me out of house and home."

"I think you can afford it."

Tony rolled up to his knees then settled between Steve's legs. He started working the rest of their clothes off, and Steve let him, obediently lifting an arm, a leg, or his hips to let Tony strip him naked. "We should meet at your place more. Use up your lube."

Steve scoffed. "Yeah, if a twin bed and cardboard-thin walls do it for you."

Tony grinned. "But Bucky's your next door neighbour. We could show up him and Nat."

"You _ would  _ get competitive about sex." Steve's hands landed on Tony's shoulders then stroked down towards his wrists.

"Only cause I'm the best at it." Tony shuffled backwards until he was on his stomach between Steve's legs. He licked a stripe up Steve's cock, then sucked it down to the base in one go.

Steve gasped, his knees coming up to squeeze Tony's shoulders. His hands landed on Tony's head and gripped and released his hair. "Not… not going to argue with that," Steve managed to get out.

While he sucked, Tony slicked his fingers and started working Steve open. Steve liked it a little fast, a little rough, and so did Tony, but Tony had learned the hard way that Steve's eyes were often bigger than his... well… and it was best to spend more time on prep than Steve insisted he needed. To distract him, Tony pulled out all the stops, sucking and licking until Steve's thighs started shaking and his fingers dug painfully into Tony's scalp. 

Tony pulled back with a filthy noise and looked up. Steve's eyes were glassy and unfocused, too spots of pink high on his cheeks. Tony ripped the condom open and rolled it on, following it with the rest of the lube that still coated his fingers. "Ready?" he asked.

"For quite a while now," Steve bit out, but without heat. His hands found Tony's forearms and he pulled Tony down on top of him. "Please?"

"Shit." Tony lined himself up and started to push into Steve's slick heat. Steve begging never failed to send an electric shock straight through Tony's core. Tony bottomed out with a groan then pulled back immediately only to press in again. Steve pressed his palms against the wall behind his head, bracing himself so Tony could fuck him harder.

Steve normally brought a hand between them to jack himself off, but when Tony felt his pleasure building, and Steve hadn't yet, Tony dropped to one elbow so he could take him in hand, stroking in time with his thrusts. Steve let out the most delicious moan, his eyes falling shut.

"Fuck, Tony, I'm gonna - please don't stop, I'm gonna come."

"Yeah, come for me, Steve. I wanna feel you clenching around me,  _ fuck -"  _

Steve came with a cry, white stripes landing across his stomach as Tony pumped wave after wave out of him. He clenched down, muscles rippling around Tony's cock. Tony was close too, and, needing an outlet for some of the tense energy building up inside him, bent and bit down hard on Steve's chest. Steve gasped and clenched even tighter around him. Tony fucked into the gripping, slick heat, nearly gone. He bit again and again, sucking dark marks into Steve's skin when it made him buck and squirm.

Tony folded Steve's knee up towards his chest, thrust into him once, twice more and then he was coming too, pulsing into the condom, scrambling with his back feet to try and push even deeper into Steve's heat than he already was.

"Fuck…" Tony slumped down on Steve's chest, and Steve's hand came up to rest on his hips, thumbs digging in a little. Tony felt  _ wonderful  _ and with absolutely no desire to move any time this decade. He expected Steve to shove him off at any moment and start getting dressed, as he always did, but instead, Steve stayed sprawled out under him, his heaving chest slowly slowing, thumbs drawing lazy circles on Tony's hips. 

When Tony found the strength to move, he tipped off Steve and half-sat up, looking down at him curiously. Steve looked back, expression blank, and their gazes held. There was something shifting there, and Tony couldn't quite get his fingernails under the edge of it to pry it apart.

A knock on the door broke them out of their bizarre staring contest. "Tony?" 

"Come on in Bruce, we're decent." Tony sat up and tugged the sheets over his lap. Steve was blushing but trying to look like he didn't care, and Tony tamped down a laugh.

Bruce stuck his head in. "We're going to Nick's for dinner. You wanna come?" His eyes flicked over to Steve, and he smiled politely. "You're welcome, too, of course."

"Sure, I'll come," Tony said. In the past, Tony would have added something about Steve having to go, dismissing him so he wouldn't have to come up with an excuse. But this time, the words wouldn't come. He found himself turning to a surprised Steve, instead, raising his eyebrows in question. 

"Uh. Yeah, sure. I'll come." Steve said, eyes remaining fixed on Tony.

"You don't have to," Tony said quietly. 

"No I - I like Nick's. Sounds like fun."

"Alright." Tony turned back to Bruce. "Give us ten minutes?"

Bruce raked his eyes over the mussed sheets, their wild hair, Steve's bruise-covered chest, and the lube bottle on the floor. "Take twenty," he muttered then closed the door. 

Steve burst out laughing, and Tony couldn't help but follow. He stood and started tossing their clothes back on the bed, aiming for Steve's head with as many pieces as he could. Steve caught each one, pulling his own on and tossing Tony's beside him on the bed. Once they were dressed, Tony hovered in front of Steve for a moment, considering him. "You sure you want to come?"

Steve shrugged. "Why not? 607 is probably having another party tonight anyway. I'd rather go out to Nick's instead of sitting in my room listening to their bassline pound through my ribcage. Do you not want me to come? You kinda looked at me like you wouldn't mind?"

"Oh no, of course I don't mind. You're a free man. Do what you want."

"If I'm going to be cramping your style…"

Tony just rolled his eyes and started filling his pockets with his phone, wallet, and keys. "You couldn't, even if you tried, Rogers."

Steve snorted and slipped oh so subtly off to the bathroom. He met Tony in the hall, fully dressed now and somewhat put back together. Tony reached up and flattened out the wild side of his hair. 

"You lovebirds ready?" Rhodey called from behind him, and Tony snapped his hand back to his side as if it had been burned.

"Fuck you," he said, without much heat, as he stomped past Rhodey and out the front door. Steve trailed after him. While they walked, Tony stayed carefully ahead of the group, making it clear that Steve was out with all of them and not as Tony's date. Steve fell into conversation with Bruce of all people, and Tony made a mental note to ask his fellow scientist what he thought of Steve, later. 

Nick's was a student bar, there was nothing for it. They tried desperately to attract families and couples to their dining room and the after dinner crowd to their lounge, but it never worked. Students poured in every night, cleared the place of cheap beer and half-price-on-Tuesdays appetizers, and poured back out again, straight across the street and into their dorm rooms - no cab needed.

Tonight was no different. Tony, Steve, Rhodey, Bruce, Pepper, and Clint claimed a large circle booth in the back corner of the dining room and immediately started to argue. Loudly. It was their usual approach to ordering food, a carefully perfected process of whining, yelling, negotiating, grumbling, pouting, and ultimately getting whatever was on special. Tony sat back tonight, making the occasional case for sweet potato fries, and tried not to watch Steve.

Steve sat across the booth, between Rhodey and Clint, and he was exactly in the centre of Tony's line of vision which was deeply distracting. One, because Tony had been balls deep in his ass only half an hour ago and two, because for all the time Tony had spent with Steve and Nat's friends, this was the first time Steve had been exposed, fully and without reservation, to Tony's friends.

Pepper was only in town for a few days, where Rhodey, Clint and Bruce, as Tony's roommates, were around all the time, so after their drinks had arrived and the waiter had been sucked into the War of the Appetizers, Tony peeled his eyes away from Steve to look to his left and smile at her. "Pep, my darling, my light, love of my life, how are you?"

"If that's an attempt to preempt me asking you about that Steve guy, fat chance."

"What? Why would I - no? I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't." She picked up her drink - something dark and bubbly looking, rum and coke? - and took a sip from the thin, red straw. "So what about that Steve guy?"

"Don't do me like that, Pep."

"Like what? You brought a date and then you sat on the opposite side of the table and have been staring at him all night. What's with that?"

"A - I did not bring a date. Bruce invited the guy I'm fucking and it would have been rude to tell him not to come. B - I'm not staring at him, he just happens to be - you know -" Tony gestured "- across the table from me. C - he's not my date so it doesn't matter where I sit. It's not like a thing, it's just… sitting."

Pepper blinked at him for a moment. "I think you've been working too hard."

"What? No I - what are you even -?" He huffed and knocked back a huge gulp of his beer. "Look. The entire scoop is that we started out hate-fucking on the reg when we got sloshed. And now we… we're… fuckbuddies, I guess. Though without the buddy part. We're…"

"Fuckers?" Pepper offered sweetly.

Tony shot her a look. "Yes."

"So, you don't like him, it's just sex?"

"I mean, really good sex, but yeah." Tony started tearing his napkin into tiny pieces. "It's not like we hang out or anything. I mean, there was the one time with Obie and -"

"Obie? Your fuck-not-buddy hung out with you and Obie?"

"No, no, no." Tony motioned for her to be quieter, the name had flicked Steve's eyes over from where he was talking to Bruce and Clint. "Obie came by and - uh - said some things, and I was uncomfortable and Steve showed up and sort of… told him to leave."

"Wow."

"Yeah… it was…" Tony saw the look in her eye and cut himself off. "Look, I used to think he was an asshole and now I think he's actually a pretty nice guy. But he's not really my type, or I'm not his, personality wise, so we're having a good time, and that's all. If he wanted to date someone seriously, or if I did, we'd break it off."

The food chose that moment to arrive and there was a flurry of activity as they got the plates and baskets settled. Pepper ate a cheese puff then turned back to Tony. "So you don't want to."

"Want to what?"

"Date anyone seriously."

"No. I don't have time for that."

"But you have time to see Steve several nights a week."

"Well, yeah, but we just have sex and then go on our merry way. Why are you pushing so much on this? You want to date the guy?" Tony felt like his voice was getting too loud for a private conversation. "Be my guest!"

"Oh shush, of course I don't want to date him." Pepper rolled her eyes at him and Tony shoved an entire handful of sweet potato fries in his mouth with a pout.

Pepper let it drop, and the rest of the evening was a fun one. Steve seemed to like everyone and everyone seemed to like Steve. Every now and then, he'd look up from his food and shoot Tony a little smile, a soft one, with that same affection in it. It was a smile he didn't seem to give anyone else, and Tony's heart beat a little faster every time he did it.

**

"What are you working on?" 

Tony looked up to find Steve taking a seat on his bed, a stack of books in his arms. He set them on the floor by the foot of Tony's bed and stretched out long, tipping onto his back. Tony looked back at his work. "Honestly… I'm not entirely sure anymore." He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes closed. His eyelids rasped like sandpaper, and Tony groaned; he'd been staring at this project for far too long.

"Come here."

Tony blinked up at Steve for a moment then pushed his chair back and stood. He collapsed on the bed, half on the mattress, half draped over Steve. Steve didn't seem to mind; he manhandled Tony into a more comfortable position then started rubbing his fingers into the back of Tony's neck. 

Tony let out a truly embarrassing moan, his whole body going limp. "Christ."

"Strong hands," Steve said, as if that were some sort of explanation for why he was currently melting Tony's brain. 

"Nuh," Tony replied eloquently. He let Steve massage his neck as long as he could before he started to feel guilty, then he shuffled down Steve's body and worked his fly open. Steve shucked his shirt then locked his hands to Tony's head, one resting on his neck, one curling up through his hair. Tony wrapped his lips around the head of Steve's cock and sucked lightly, building up enough spit that it was a smooth glide to slide down the length. Steve moaned, quiet but intense, and Tony had to hold back a grin. Coaxing amazing noises out of Steve was both fun and easy.

Tony licked and bobbed, getting lost in Steve's groans, letting his fingers dance up and down Steve's muscular legs. He fully intended to suck Steve off until he came then jack himself off on his perfect abs, but after only a few minutes, Steve reached down, grabbed his arm and tugged.

"What?"

"Come here - no - like, turn around. This way - yes." Steve guided Tony around until he was straddling Steve's head, perched over him on his hands and knees, Steve's cock back in his mouth. Steve reached up and touched the waistband of Tony's pants, and Tony's eyes rolled back in his head.

Why hadn't he thought to 69? This was a brilliant idea. He wanted to say as much, but his mouth was still full of Steve's thick cock so instead he bucked his hips towards Steve's exploring hands.

Steve's deftly worked Tony's cock free from his clothes, and he swirled his tongue around the head. Tony moaned, and Steve's hips kicked up at the vibration. The urge to spread his legs, fuck down into Steve's mouth, was overwhelming, and Tony squirmed and writhed until Steve got the idea and helped him kick his pants all the way off. 

Steve tipped his head back and opened his mouth, using both hands on Tony's ass to guide him down into his throat. Steve's grip tightened around Tony's hips, and he took the silent invitation to thrust his hips down, sliding his cock through the tight ring of Steve's lips and into his wet heat. It was heaven.

Tony turned his attention back to Steve's cock, licking over the head and tasting the burst of precome as he lapped it up. Without too much difficulty, Tony was able to set an alternating rhythm with his mouth and hips that swallowed Steve down then pushed his own cock into Steve's throat. Steve was warm and pliant and giving under him, and Tony shifted the hands that braced him on the mattress so they pressed against Steve's thighs. 

Steve made up for being the passive party by swallowing around Tony's cock, flicking his tongue along the length with every pull back, and humming muffled groans when Tony took him deep again.

Without a word, Tony could tell when Steve was getting close. He shook and twitched and his moans got louder and more frequent, and finally he snapped his hands down from Tony's ass to his head, locking his fingers between the strands. He didn't push down, Tony had made it clear that made him feel panicky without ever having to say as much, but he hovered there, a warning and a promise and a plea.

Tony sucked him through it, swallowing down the bursts of come that filled his mouth. He'd come to love that, ever since they'd agreed that they'd go without condoms until one of them had reason to change their mind. Tony saw no need to be the one to change; he was getting everything he needed from Steve. Actually, the thought of Steve dating someone else -

Steve twitched again, driving his cock too far down Tony's throat, and Tony coughed and pulled back, swallowing hard to prevent come and spit from dripping all over his sheets. Steve pulled away with a gasp of breath. "You can go harder," he rasped, and heady pleasure clenched Tony's gut like a vice grip.

"Fuck." With Steve lying sated under him, Tony's whole focus became the mouth wrapped around his cock. He rocked into Steve's mouth a few times, but his wrists were getting tired so he pulled free and spun around, straddling Steve's stomach for a moment - pausing to enjoy the view - before shuffling up towards his face. "This okay?" he asked, gesturing towards Steve's mouth.

"More than okay." Steve parted his lips and flicked his tongue out, and Tony took the invitation. He tucked his knees against Steve's sides, braced one hand against the headboard, and rocked his hips forward to slide his cock into Steve's mouth.

He had excellent leverage this way, and Steve, apparently, was free from his gag reflex. Tony thrust again and again, going harder and deeper when Steve only moaned and swallowed and didn't stop him. Both of Steve's hands rested gently on Tony's thighs, and any time his fingers twitched, Tony pulled back, just a little, to let him breathe.

"God, you feel incredible. You're so good at that." Tony looked down and caught Steve's bright, blue eyes gazing up at him, fuzzy with post-orgasm haze, but warm and open and trusting. And that was the thing, wasn't it. It was a heady, exhilarating kind of trust to have Steve trapped under him like this, letting Tony drive, letting himself be used. "This is not going to take long."

Steve seemed to take that as a personal challenge, because his eyes drifted shut, and his throat rippled around Tony's cock, sucking him in again every time he pulled back. Tony's fingers were starting to hurt where they gripped the headboard, but he needed it, he needed something to hold on to or he was going to spin right off the bed and into outer space.

He could no longer form words, but loud - frankly embarrassing - noises were spilling from his throat. The hand that wasn't braced against the headboard fell to the top of Steve's hair, furrowing back through the strands then gripping a little. Steve moaned again, eyelids fluttering and that pushed Tony over the edge.

He pressed in and stilled, bottom lip caught so tightly between his teeth that it might be bleeding. His cock twitched, pulsed, and then he was coming, filling Steve's mouth, spilling over his lips as he swallowed and coughed, unable to take it all.

Tony sat back with a groan. He had just enough energy to grab a kleenex and a water bottle from the bedside table. They each wiped off, took a swig, then collapsed. Steve sprawled over the mattress like a giant starfish and Tony spread out on top of him, cheek pressed to Steve's chest, his heaving breath and pounding heart drowning out the other sounds in the room. Tony's eyes were heavy.

"Sorry… I'll - guh…" Steve trailed off, completely limp under Tony, and Tony patted his bare skin blindly.

"No worries…" 

"I'm going to fall asleep," Steve insisted, his breath already slow and deep.

"Whatever..." Tony slurred, sleep pulling heavily at his body at his body too.

If they said anything else, Tony didn't remember it. There was nothing but vague dreams of being in a sauna before he woke up a few hours later, drenched in sweat. Tony kicked the blanket off, gasping at the cool air hitting his skin, and it took him a moment to register that the reason he was so hot was because Steve was still wrapped around him. They'd only moved closer together in the night, if that was even possible, and Steve was an overheated blanket of bare skin and tickling hair.

Tony shifted to shove him off then stilled. With the actual blanket kicked off, Tony's temperature was regulating, and if he kicked Steve out, he'd get cold again, especially with the sweat cooling on his skin. Besides, he was exhausted, and waking Steve up would mean a conversation, and that conversation would wake Tony up enough that he'd struggle to fall asleep again. 

...Maybe it was a weak argument, but he was taking it. 

Tony snuggled up into Steve's hold, closed his eyes and drifted off again. 

When he next woke, it was to Steve muttering against his temple. 

"...or be late, Tony."

"Nuh?"

"I have to go. I'm going to be late for class." Steve shifted, and Tony whined as the movement dislodged his comfortable position. Steve chuckled. "I'm sorry. I have to go." He whispered the words right in Tony's ear and the puff of air rippled down his spine.

"Mmm." Tony burrowed deeper into his warmth, and Steve's chest shook with laughter. "Or you could stay. Round two?"

"I really can't miss this class," Steve replied, but Tony could hear the disappointment and Steve's hands couldn't seem to stop stroking down Tony's bare back.

Tony sighed, then unwrapped himself and sat up. He stretched tall, reaching for his phone. "Shit, we should have done this on a night when we didn't have to be up in the morning. I'm taking a grad class I should show up for too. Starts in an hour."

Tony looked over, and Steve was giving him a strange look, still on his back on Tony's pillows. 

"What?" Tony smirked. "Not into morning sex?"

"I just… didn't think this was the sort of thing we did, let alone plan for a good night to do it."

"Sorry." Tony shuffled over Steve's legs and out of bed. He pulled fresh clothes out of his dresser, tossing clean boxers over to the bed for Steve to borrow. Their laundry was now completely intertwined anyway, from forgotten socks to grabbed-the-wrong t-shirts. "Didn't mean to trap you here."

"No, that's not what I meant," Steve said hurriedly. He pulled on Tony's boxers then worked his way into his jeans from the day before. "Just… you're okay that I stayed over?"

Tony shrugged. "Sure, why not?" It was okay. It was… nice.

"Okay, good." Steve smiled.

Fully dressed, they came to a stop, face-to-face in the middle of the room. Something hummed between them. Tony blinked up at Steve who blinked back down at him, and the moment stretched on into forever. Then, unable to think of another way to end the tension they were caught in, Tony rested his hand on Steve's warm, solid chest, tipped up on his toes, and pressed a soft kiss to Steve's lips.  

Steve made a startled noise then sunk into it, one hand snapping to Tony's hip, holding on the way he liked to during sex.

The kiss was warm and soft and completely devoid of the sexual energy that had charged all their previous kisses. But Tony found he didn't mind, not really. There was something cozy and settling about a kiss just for kisses sake, and he'd kissed Steve often enough that it didn't have to be weird that he was taking advantage of that comfort now. 

The kiss went nowhere; after a moment they simply broke apart. Steve looked a bit startled, and Tony had the distinct impression that Steve's expression was mirrored on his own face, but he turned away before Steve could get a chance to examine it too closely. Tony grabbed his bag and opened the door. 

"North or south?" he asked.

Steve shook himself. "North."

"Oh, I'm south." It would have been kind of nice to walk to class together. Less boring than walking alone. Though, Tony knew that time should be spent working through the trickier passages of his thesis in his mind.

"Well. I'll see you later, then," Steve said. He wafted out the door and was gone.

Tony walked alone to class, but he couldn't seem to make his mind stick on his thesis, memories of last night, of Steve, and a sharp afterimage of their morning kiss burning through his mind, instead.

**

Tony yawned and stretched, watching the last of his housemates file out of their living room, off to do their own things. He'd had two beers, just enough to feel a bit relaxed, and he wasn't quite ready to call the evening quits himself. 

As it usually did when left to its own devices these days, his mind wandered over to Steve. It would be the perfect end to an awesome day if Tony finished it out riding Steve until his eyes rolled back in his head. If he batted his eyelashes afterwards, Steve might even make him dinner, and that meant not having Pizza Pockets for the eighth night in a row.

Tony shot off a text, but didn't bother waiting for a response. The five minute walk to Steve's dorm would be nice no matter what, and if Steve wasn't home, Tony would get a slushie from the corner store to end his day with instead. 

He was surprised though, when he made it all the way to Steve's door with no text in reply. He knocked. At first, he thought he was right, Steve wasn't home, and he was just turning away to walk the extra block to the store, when he heard a small voice call out, "Who's'it?"

"It's Tony."

There was a pause then, "Come in."

Tony frowned at the closed door. Why couldn't Steve just let him in? He dug around in his pockets until he found his wallet, then wriggled the keycard Steve had given him out of the slot at the back. He swiped it and pushed open the door.

"Oh my god, Steve, what happened?"

There was a small lump of blankets on the floor in front of Steve's bed, with a tuft of blonde hair sticking out of the top. Beside the lump was a Mount Doom sized-pile of used tissues, two empty tissue boxes and a smattering of Gatorade bottles. There was a stack of plates from the mess and a knocked over box of Honey Nut Cheerios, spilling its contents over the rug. 

The lump coughed.

Tony crouched down in front of it and tugged the blankets open until he could see Steve's face. His skin was flushed and sweaty, his nose bright red, the skin sore and cracked around it. Steve's eyes were ringed with dark circles and he was breathing through his mouth. Tony held back a laugh. It was just so  _ adorable.  _ "Are you sick, sweetheart?" Tony winced internally at the pet name, but Steve didn't seem to notice it. 

He nodded. "Yes," he croaked. "It's awful."

"I thought you never got sick."

"It was the kids at that stupid art show." Steve pouted and Tony bit back another chuckle.

"You loved that stupid art show."

"I know… but this still sucks. I'm never sick, I don't know how to be sick." Tony did laugh this time, and Steve shot him a completely unimpressive glare. Tony petted his damp hair back from his forehead, and Steve sighed. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" Tony asked.

"Well, you're obviously here for, you know. And I'm too sick. Sorry."

"Oh shit, Steve. Don't be sorry for that. It's fine." Tony stood and stretched. He looked around at the trashed room. "Okay, well, I'm really good at being sick so I guess I'll just have to show you how it's done."

"What are you -?" Steve started, but Tony plowed on.

"Why are you on the floor?"

"I got my sheets all sweaty, and then I was too tired to change them," Steve admitted. "I'm hot and then I'm cold."

"That's the fever talking, boo boo." Tony patted him on his head. "Alright," he said, more to himself than to Steve. He started stripping the sheets off the bed, making a list for the store in his head.

"What are you doing?"

"Changing your sheets?"

"Why?"

"Because sitting on the floor cannot be as comfortable as sitting in bed."

"But… Tony you don't have to stay, it's okay. I'll be fine."

Tony snorted. "Yeah, right. You have no idea how to be sick, Steve. You're going to kill yourself by mistake. You need an expert to show you how it's done."

"Tony…"

Tony crouched down in front of the sad Steve burrito again. "Do you want me to go?" he asked quietly.

"No! Of course not. I like having you here."

"Then I won't go. I don't have anything else I have to do today." Tony set back to work, stripped the bed clean and pulled fresh sheets out of the bottom drawer of Steve's dresser. Once it was made up, Tony piled all the pillows at one end and fluffed them up into a nest. He urged Steve up off the floor and onto the bed, then rearranged his blankets so he was more comfortably tucked under them instead of wrapped up like a sniffling sushi roll. "I'm going to the store. What do you want?"

"You don't have to do that."

"Don't go thinking you're special or something." Tony laid his hand over Steve's forehead to check his temperature. He was burning up. "I was going to go anyway. Been craving a slushie all day."

Steve looked wholly unconvinced, but Tony also knew he didn't have the strength to fight it. "I wouldn't mind a grilled cheese?"

"You got it." Tony bent over and pressed his lips to Steve's forehead. When he pulled away, Steve was gazing at him, wide-eyed. "Just checking your temp." Tony smirked, and he caught Steve turning away to hide his grin in the pillow. "I'll be right back."

Tony took the sheets down to the laundry first, swiping Steve's keycard to start the machine. Steve only had the two sets, and it was very likely that he'll need them changed again tomorrow. Tony hit the corner store next, stocking up on snacks and drinks for the both of them, as well as bread and cheese slices. He made it all the way to the door before realizing he'd forgotten his slushie, and he had to turn around and do a second transaction for a giant cup of bright blue slush.

Steve had his eyes closed, the blankets tight around his face, when Tony returned. He set to work making grilled cheese as quietly as possible using the hot plate Steve had tucked in the corner of his room, sipping his drink until his lips and tongue were surely bright blue too. It was violently against the rules to have a hot plate in your room, but straight-laced Steve had never seemed bothered, shrugging it off whenever Tony asked with a, "I always unplug it when I'm not using it."

Tony had to make the sandwiches one at a time on the tiny surface, so it was a while before he had a stack on a plate. He stood and brought the plate over to the bed, and Steve cracked a red-rimmed eye. "Did you turn the plate off?" he croaked, and Tony laughed.

"Yes, I turned the plate off. Eat." He dropped the food on the bed, added a few different kinds of drinks and a packet of cookies, then climbed over Steve's cocooned body to settle sideways across the bed with his back against the wall. He bent his knees over Steve's hips, tucking his feet up against his stomach. Steve handed back a sandwich, and Tony took it then dug around under the pillow until he found the remote.

"Why are you watching the news?"

Steve huffed. "I always watch the news."

"Shit, Steve, you can't watch the news while you're sick, that's… that's against the rules. Here." Tony flicked around until he found a trashy reality show with people yelling at each other, chewing on the straw of his half-finished slushie. Steve would never admit it, but he loved watching other people's drama.

They ate in silence, Steve's movements from the plate to his mouth the only thing proving he was still awake. When Tony finished his sandwich, he wriggled his fingers under the edge of the blanket and stroked over the nape of Steve's neck, tracing his hairline. 

When the show ended, Steve rolled over to face Tony, curling around him. Tony set his empty cup aside and shifted over so their faces were closer together, slumped against the wall. He brushed Steve's hair back from his face. "Tired?"

"Mhm."

"Want me to go?"

"No." Steve's hand found its way out of a gap in the blankets and found Tony's. He wound their fingers together. He was quiet for so long that Tony thought he'd fallen asleep, but then his eyes flicked open again and he found Tony's. "I haven't dated anyone since I met you," he said quietly.

Tony's heart sung. He couldn't stop the broad grin that bloomed across his face. "Me neither," he said, and he let himself fall completely on his side so he could shift over and press a kiss to Steve's lips. 

"Stop, you're going to get sick," Steve protested weakly.

"Darling, anything strong enough to bring down your immune system is going to have no trouble with me at all. I was going to get sick the moment I walked in here so I might as well go out with a bang."

Steve snorted, coughed. "All you ever want from me is a bang," he declared haughtily.

Tony laughed, couldn't seem to stop laughing. Steve lifted his arm, opening the blanket cocoon and Tony tucked himself inside, under Steve's arm. Steve was a thousand degrees, sweaty and gross, and he kept having to break their kisses to gasp in air through his mouth, but Tony didn't care. It was perfect. "I don't just want the bang," Tony said, when Steve was too tired to keep making out and settled on Tony's chest instead.

"I know."

Tony rubbed Steve's back in slow, gentle circles. "I want everything."

"Me too."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Follow me on tumblr at festiveferet.tumblr.com <3


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